Drabble Might Count
by NFMaredzenian
Summary: My first DMC fanfic drabble. No specific storyline, just chapters out of my imagination. Rated T in case one of the scenes isn't appropriate. Chapter 10 with The Soundproof Room.
1. Demon Twins On The FreakBus

**Drabble Might Count**

A/N: This is my first DMC fic and I decided to make it in the form of drabbles, since random thoughts are frequently hooked to my mind and I'm currently obsessed with this game. Chapters for these may come earlier or later than expected, later likelier, because I could either be searching for inspiration or struggling for an outlet for the current condition of my imagination.  
Since most of these are random drabbles, no proper part of the timeline is set and they may be out of character…  
Anyhow, enjoy.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry 3 and/or its characters. I have not played the first two games either.

* * *

Randomness One: Demon Twins On the Freak-Bus

Having to sit at the back of the bus would not have been so bad if hyperactive children of the primary school had not invaded his personal space. Now, if it were Dante's, he would not mind, but this time he had become Dante's shield. This time the children had taken to emptying bottles of water out on the traffic, regardless whether or not the wasted liquid made contact with cars or motorcycles.

"Humans can be so primitive." "Yeah," he heard a similar pair of voices speak from the seat closest to the back.

The two are three-year-apart siblings, an elder sister and a younger brother. The girl is known for her necessary 'mean' factor when it came to making her way out of the bus unstained, and the boy has witty remarks to offer while comparing this world to his fictional prototype. The siblings live right next door to the Sparda residence.

Time to time he had to listen to the elder speak of ingratitude shown by the children to what they were given and the younger agree, speaking of how the lowering of IQ among children nowadays is caused by overpopulation. 'They're inspired by the music video,' Vergil thought, shaking his head. Sitting next to him, Dante would have slept as he so often did in class, but the noisy and heated condition of the bus – with thanks to the climate and mentality of this country – prevented him from doing so.

For those who wondered why these two had not fought so far, this bus is no place for them to start a fight, given the tendency of the children to try to join in. Besides, true to their father's words, they shall not tarnish the name of the Sparda family, thus they had kept themselves as clean as possible in school as well.

Even the bus driver is hardly civic-minded. Always the observant back-seater, Vergil noted on some days when the bus beats the traffic light or stops in the yellow box while waiting for the traffic light to turn green.

Most people here paid attention to the twins' silvery-white hair on their first day, but it was their hard-to-break attitude that made them stand out. Dante is always late for class and Vergil is imperiously adamant when PE teachers threatened to call up his parents regarding his disinclination to change to PE clothes on the days the lessons are on.  
They never had; considering the impossibility for the twins to change, the school dared not ring up the parents anymore.  
Maybe they called up their mother once, but Eva had given them such a lecture that they had given up while they still had the chance. Most parents spoil their children anyway.  
Well, most, since commanding supreme authority over the lifestyle of a part-demon part-human family is foolishness only normal people would commit to.

Coming off the subject of their earlier times here, his mind returned to the current situation. A huge-massed thirteen-year-old had been shoved away from the siblings' seat for his intrusion of their personal space. Vergil had always taken in the amusement when they speak clearly of the inconsiderate people around them causing discomfort without provocation.

He kept the book he was reading in his bag and thought of a way to endure this noise since he could not concentrate on reading. Telling one person to shut up is easy enough, but a whole bus of noisy people is more than a human-form could handle.  
'I could sass a discipline teacher in the face when it comes to wearing hair-gel in school, but this is madness we're talking here.'

The bus turned left on a junction into the second lane of the residential area. Spotting this, Dante turned his iPod off and slung the single strap of his red schoolbag over his left shoulder. Vergil had his possessions packed safely in his blue backpack ever since they claimed this seat and stood up only after the siblings in front of them had.

When they had gotten off, everything had become a blur in Vergil's mind. He tripped and landed on his elbows. He could hear spiteful laughter embarrassing him to no end.

Suddenly his back went rigid and he could stand up straight. The children's eyes are all filled with sudden fear and terror. Now he is not only Vergil, but a demon…

He should not risk exposing his bloodline to the world, but what the heck? This country is like a frog under a coconut shell. Nobody important will know…

The bus exploded into fire. Metal and flesh were consumed in a blasting inferno. Cries were heard, silenced and forever forgotten as the fires died down in an instant.  
'Dante?' he thought, remembering the twin that had been following him on his way out.

Still in his school uniform, unscathed, is Dante, his face of pure surprise and amazement. His mouth had formed a complete 'O'. After a few seconds, feeling himself returning to human-form, Dante's face twisted into mirthful laughter. "Of all the sadistic things you could – but this –" Dante exclaimed between breaths of laughter, "– this is the coolest!"

His twin's face had loosened into gleeful triumph. Slowly Vergil felt his own lips curl, brows forming the look of evil pleasure. That was short-lived, as he noticed that the sister and brother had been watching the whole spectacle from the safety of their front yards. The brother waved while the sister showed the horns and mouthed 'Rock on!' before they enter the house. The maid who unlocked the grill clearly asked them what happened out there, and the sister said something Vergil understood as 'Nothing.'

* * *

Vergil stretched and yawned, sitting up straight in his bed. He forgot how long he had been sleeping. "So Princess, how's your beauty sleep?" Dante asked him from his computer in the room. He did not feel like biting back at that; his head pounded severely. 'I need soda…'  
"Mom's not back from work yet?" he asked.  
"Mom called earlier. She's taking some of her time to talk to Dad about some schedules," Dante answered, eyes fixated on RuneScape.  
"Schedules?" Vergil repeated, uncomfortable. 

Not waiting for an answer, Vergil went to their parents' bedroom from which he could see the road in front of their house. The tarmac road did not bear the mark of being burnt, but still has the dark color of a freshly-filled pothole.

"By the way," Dante continued, typing a message to a friend on the game he was playing, "there's some kind of explosion up at the bus, luckily only after we got off. Scary, eh?"

Vergil felt ice clawing in the pit of his stomach. His lips went dry. 'Did it happen?' he thought with realization.

The doorbell rang. From the window space next to the front door, he could see that a man dressed in a police uniform had been pressing the button on the wall by the gates.

His hand on the doorknob, another holding the keys to the house, he hesitated.

* * *

I'm sorry if my way of typing this isn't much to your fancy, but I write like this in my school essays most of the time. Reviews, however, are still much appreciated. 

Additional Character Info  
Name: Nadiah aka 'Nay'  
Role: Author(ess)  
General Appearance: Short dark hair, rectangular glasses, barely five feet tall. Roughly boyish, actually.  
Personality: Changes every day.


	2. Soccer Field

**Drabble Might Count**

I may have no idea how, but the second chap came earlier than expected - must be the lack of players earlier today...

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry 3 and/or its characters. I have not played the first two games either.

Reviews  
Brukaoru: Thank you, I'm inspired. As a gift, look below. And what the readers want, I could still give, up to the limit of change I set for this story.  
Eric Draven201: Thanks for pointing it out. Normally my mistakes source from doubts of wondering if I should blend the character in or point them out from the start. My writing style changes over time, but it's not what I can change intentionally. In any case, it's clear how feedback changes how a writer should write. I haven't had any faves yet, so thanks again for the tip.

* * *

Randomness Two: Soccer Field / Physical Dissension

On a typical Friday, Dante would change immediately into PE clothing even before third period ends. He participates in nearly every soccer game in morning or afternoon breaks in addition to normal periods. On the other hand, Vergil would sit at the cafeteria table facing the field of cement, paint and no grass, watching his younger twin tear the field apart, thankfully not entirely literally.

That is what he keeps an eye on Dante for.

Teachers had been concerned of Vergil's health since they never saw him work it out as Dante did, but then again, they know nothing of what he does to keep a toned body.  
Not many people deserved to know that, though, from the colder twin's point of view.

Dressed in the uniform set by the school - sold to the students in the form of a white shirt with a patterned stripe on the front and back of the shirt with colored collars for the sleeveless shirts according to the team house color - Vergil's difference to Dante in this period of activity is his preference to long trousers - note that they are the black track bottoms the school also sold - while Dante always wears shorts. In addition, he was coincidentally picked into Blue House - and Dante Red - thus it is easier to tell the difference between the two when Dante manages to persuade him to wear his sleeveless white-rimmed-with-blue shirt on that day, reluctant as he is.

The seemingly stray ball could have hit him in the face and ruined his work on trigonometry if the school had not installed safety netting between the cafeteria floor and the lower ground that is the field. He stood up, frowned and saw Dante waving at him, indicating an apology. Instead, he snorted and went back to his work. PE has only just started anyway.  
"Come on, Vergil!" a classmate called out to him.  
"Forget it; I'm not coming down there," Vergil said vehemently, turning the page. Five more subjective questions await him there.  
"But you're dressed up for the moment. What are you waiting for?" Dante asked.  
"For this period to be over. I only did this to humor you," Vergil answered.  
"Could you please humor me for a bit longer?"  
"No." He made his point by the finalizing tone of his voice.  
"Please?" Dante begged on his knees, hands clasped tightly against each other.

Vergil hated it whenever Dante did that, but he had to maintain his image in this school to survive without black marks. If he was too cold, the principal would make him speak to the annoying school counselor. If he had to talk to her, people would call him a problematic student in addition to him missing his important classes by having to attend counseling sessions. Chain events occur.

"Alright, I'm coming down there – on one condition," he added after a brief and evil thought.  
"Name it," Dante predictably said.  
"You get to be keeper," Vergil answered, stepping down the stairs.  
"What!?" the younger twin almost yelled, but that is the price for begging Vergil to expose himself to cruel, direct equatorial sunlight.  
"You heard me, Dante, now stand there," Vergil ordered, pointing at the place where the only girl playing soccer amongst boys originally stood.

Dante grumbled at first, but knowing his brother's lousy aims when it comes to projectiles, he yawned when the class monitor, Ethan, passed the ball to Vergil.

With surprising strength, Vergil kicked it in the direction of Dante's stomach; if it had been lower, the ball could have slipped past Dante's legs or worse.  
"Man, this is why I hate being keeper!" he complained. "Shut up," Vergil snapped. "This is why I'm normally the keeper," the girl spoke with a shrug.

Uncomfortably holding the ball without gloves, he threw it to the class monitor, who passed it to Vergil, who passed it to the girl whose shots Dante can always block. It meant an insult to him that she is the only one who could not get past him while the boys had goals every now and then. Most of the class team members are passers and strong off-kickers, but she is the best defense closest to the goalpost. Bruises would mock him while she would treat them proudly as battle scars.

Ever expressionless, Vergil passed the ball to her again. It added salt to the wound as she actually scored herself a goal even if she had not been able to earlier. Dante retrieved the ball and set it down, kicking it hard to Vergil, who calmly allowed the tall student behind him to take it. When he made his shot, it was stronger than Vergil's.

Despite random facts, however strong anyone else is, Vergil never missed a goal.

"I've had enough. Nay, take my place," Dante said, limping away from the post. Her reply was "Woot!" when she strode back to her usual place.

The pain did not leave Dante, though; whenever Vergil has to pass the ball to him, he would aim the ball to his head or some other body part and kick hard indeed. When Dante passes to Vergil, however, he either dodges easily or blocks with never so much as a notion of tremor in his muscles or a bead of sweat. He almost thought that his elder twin had a heart for that efficient keeper, but Vergil thought otherwise.  
He took on the responsibility to remind her that she is not necessarily 'one of the guys' by limiting his strength when it came to his turn to score. After all, she is one of the highest-scoring students in class and is smarter than Dante will ever hope to be.

"Nay, are you okay?" Ethan asked after she blocked his kick with the palms of her hands. "I'm fine," she answered with a grin on her face. 'Boy, do I need gloves.'

Qwan, the tall student, missed the netting between the goalposts again, what with his strength that came from his fiery temper. Dante retrieved the ball and aimed at Vergil's head as a pass.

Vergil did not have the lack of pride to rub the right side of his forehead. Instead, he swept that side of his hair back of any dirt that had clung to the surface of the ball earlier and kicked hard – and for the first time, missed his original target.

The ball went sailing over the teachers' cafeteria to the swimming pool, which is now thankfully unoccupied by unwary students, or else they would have suffered the wrath in the momentum of the hard leather sphere. The culprit stopped in his tracks and stared in the direction of where the ball had gone.

"Well, go get it," Dante told him.  
Refusing to be made like a servant, Vergil took on the master tone instead. "I told you I'd only be down here on the condition that you're the keeper, so I'm off."  
"Nay was keeper for the past five minutes; why were you still playing then?" Dante demanded.  
"Because I can still hit you as much as when _you_ were keeper," he replied smugly, "but since I couldn't hit you now, goodbye."  
"I'll go get it," the class monitor offered, walking to the locked gates of the pool where the swimming teachers looked confusedly at the splash emitted by the fallen object.

By the time Dante's eyes left him, Vergil disappeared. He guessed his elder twin would be up there, collecting his books like the nerd he is, but he is always better.

Dante would usually hang back with the guys after a decent soccer game, but like Nay, Vergil is not the kind of person to open up to other people. 'Why does it always have to be the smart ones?'

"Aha!" he cried out triumphantly when he reached the dark classroom, but only Nay was there, standing under a fan at full blast. "Huh?"  
"Where did Verge go to?" Dante asked.  
"He was changing in here a second ago," she replied, eyes roaming perversely around the dark room.  
Dante stared at her in disbelief.  
"Well, it's not the first time I wished I was a dood," she exclaimed, walking past him out the door with her uniform, towel and belongings.

He had not been aware that his cold-hearted twin had hidden in the shadows again to await his fate.

In the end, the rest of the class enjoyed this fun opportunity of seeing Vergil's true strength and Dante's real –  
"Shut up, Nay."

* * *

I always type up according to how it's like at my school… My imagination is limited, and I know it all sounded pretty stupid…  
Yes, I did intend to type 'dood'. That's how Nay speaks.  
I may sound selfish in the sense of placing the coolest half-demon twins in my class and asking for a review even after that, but is that normal?  
More shall be up soon... hopefully... 

Additional Character Info  
Name: Ethan  
Role: Class monitor.  
General Appearance: Short dark hair, rectangular glasses, five feet nine, toned.  
Personality: Comedian, sociable; a verbal pervert at times.


	3. Superstition of Psychotic Twins

**Drabble Might Count**

Coffee had been the final drink – or at least the second final – I had at dinner, and now I'm inspired to type up.

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry 3 and/or its characters. I have not played the first two games either. I also don't own the song 'Beautiful Girl' by Sean Kingston. Really.

* * *

Randomness Three: Superstition of Psychotic Twins

Brown and balding Mr. Austin, the class's General Science teacher, loved picking on short and spiky-haired Darren, unwary, tall and talkative Alan or cavalier Dante. "I always prefer the big ones," he once declared. "The bigger they are, the harder they fall."

As old as he is, he did not mind staring at the young ladies of the school, but would not grope like rumors have declared. He could 'touch' them hard with his one-foot-long wooden ruler as punishment, aimed on their legs most of the time since he has an image to keep up, as do everyone else. However, neither did he mind talking about the relationships of some of the boys in class and blaming their mediocre results on their obsession with their infatuated partner, for example Alan and a girl named Mandy who was a year younger than he is.  
Worse for the writer, Mr. Don Austin had found out about Nay's interest in a certain Lord of the Class, Ethan.

The mentioned person himself could wonder why Nay's style had evolved into his over the years. There was also once when Kong had thought she was Ethan at first glance, entering a dark classroom, the only difference being that she wore trousers instead of shorts.  
Enough of past dealings; now comes the present.

Curiously Ethan glanced at the candy-bringer of the class sometimes. His bored eyes shifted to the direction of the twins, who – to Vergil's displeasure – sat next to each other. The elder is sandwiched between nerdy and stupid on either side. The younger has been placed at the very front and middle column of the class for teachers to keep a very close eye on. From time to time he observed Nay and how much more like Vergil she behaved. Well, that would only apply to the duration length of the class, because on the field, she once banged heads with Dante.

Taking advantage of this free period, since their Art teacher is absent, Ethan went to Darren's seat and woke him up. "What?" asked Darren, who had been sleeping blissfully since ten minutes ago.  
"Do you believe that twins have the power of telepathy?"  
"Huh?" Darren wiped away the dust of sleep from his eyes.  
"I know it's probably superstition, but we're in the same class as them right now, so what do you think?"  
"Suit yourself," Darren replied, going back on the road to Dreamland.  
Ethan swore mentally. He needed a partner in this to find out the truth. He would consider telepathy genuine if those who performed it are at a significant distance from each other.

Knowing the girls at the back of the class are as comfortable with Dante as they are with him, he asked for their help in this matter and they agreed. Dante is a fun person to know and it would be like a spark in the dullness of school life if this fact is indeed true. In any case, if the twins do have some telepathic connection with each other, knowing Dante more would get them to know Vergil more unless the latter forbids Dante from giving out his secrets.

Nay had always sat with her literal next-door neighbors during morning breaks at the cafeteria. Though they hardly talk to each other, they seem to acknowledge each other's need for solitude, except of course Dante, who always brings up a subject to talk about or scurries from table to table to talk to various students who acquainted with him after he had his fill.

Ethan gave the girls on the other side of the cafeteria the signal when Dante came to their table. This is his chance to talk to Vergil. He sat at the place once occupied by Dante. The spiky-haired twin glanced at him with narrowed eyes and surprised brows. Nay only stared from her idol to the silvery-haired teenager.  
"So Vergil, being twins with Dante…" Ethan began, licking his lips. He was not used to talking to someone so formidable.  
"Is a pain," Vergil replied, sipping tea from his flask.  
"Oh. Well, does this mean you also have some sort of telepathic connection with each other?" Ethan asked.  
Vergil looked up at him with a deep frown. He then sighed. "Not by my choice," he responded.  
"Is it true, then? If it is, can you hear what Dante's thinking now?" If curiosity could kill, Ethan would be buried more than seven feet under.  
"He's thinking: 'Chen looks delicious wearing that pink lingerie down there'," Vergil answered with as much composure as he could muster in saying those words.  
Nay's eyes widened slightly at his capability of saying such words.  
"If I told you what he really thought, you could be sickened. Or at least I could."

"Verge's thinking: 'When the hell am I going to alphabetize those CDs?' You see, he's kind of like Jay in some ways," Dante told the group of boys and girls.  
"You know, when I first heard that from you, I thought he had some strange collection of adult CDs," Audrey exclaimed.  
"_Him_? Dirty-minded? Wait a thousand years and see if he'll still respond to what he calls a waste of a good mind."

"And because of this you two could keep no secrets from each other?" Ethan pressed on.  
"At times I could block out his thoughts or his questions. It's annoying when he has 'Beautiful Girl' running through his head all day."  
"Does he ever block you out?" The class monitor had gotten used to being comfortable around Vergil since this morning's encounter.  
"Only when I listen in on Nay's thoughts whenever her head plays a good tune to rock out to."  
Ethan straightened up in shock from his slouch. "You can read her mind?" he blurted out.  
"I'm only saying this because I didn't think you'd trust me. The whole telepathy thing's a joke, seriously," Vergil explained.

While Ethan was left disappointed for the rest of the day, confusion took a trip to the class as the girls told him that Dante leaked a few secrets regarding his elder twin. Always the detail-watcher, Audrey had written down what went drifting to his head when his twin conversed mentally with his neighbor.

'Hey Nay.'  
Multiple voices greeted him in unison.  
'How many of you are in here?'  
'The last time I counted, there were only six.'  
'Only?'  
'This happens to people that take on a different personality each and every day of their lives. It's like a multitude of personalities crammed into one head while you twins are like a Betel nut cut into halves.'  
'We do not share one same mind.'

The rest of the conversation is blurred as another heavy song entered the solitary tomboy's mind.

This much did not convince the class monitor enough to believe that telepathy between the twins had been for real. Principle of Accountancy class is a bitch.  
In this case, Nay could not agree more.

Diverting his attention from his notebook, Vergil looked sharply at the barely-five-feet-tall girl and the red folder underneath her pencil-case.  
'Have you been writing up anything inappropriate?'  
'Riot! Riot! You can't invade! Blah! Blah!'  
If classmates had thought of how similar she is to him outside, they would have been sorely disappointed if they knew that at times she can really think like Dante.

* * *

Once upon their mid-year examination, however…

Alan looked over his shoulder at the girl and showed by his fingers the number of the objective question he needed answered.  
Hoping that sight does not betray her, Nay linked her fingers to form an 'A'. Helping others in examinations is hard, especially if strict teachers guard the class.

'Nay, can you help your ol' buddy with Question 23?'  
'Don't, Nay.'  
'Why not? You didn't answer him when he asked _you_,' Nay stated.  
'I don't tolerate the act of cheating or even helping one to.'  
'But I've just let Alan have a bonus shot. You hardly scoffed at that.'  
'Mind-transferred answers are more accurate, so think up some metal music by now.'  
'Aww, I need to know the damned answer!' Dante screamed.  
Soon Enter Sandman is heard, followed by Master of Puppets, by those who can listen in on others' thoughts.  
Nay ignored it when Dante swore mentally.

* * *

I've been adding my classmates into this, I know, but drabbles are drabbles, yes?  
For those who wonder what a Betel nut is, it's a sort of palm nut found in my country.  
Again I translated a native proverb literally, which originally should stand for 'a good match', although I could not find one that meant 'identical' or 'split into two'.  
I noticed how my number of words in a story increase. Mayhap I should decrease classmate appearance... this is a DMC fanfic, after all...

Additional Character Info  
Name: Darren  
Role: Class shortcake, trend follower.  
General Appearance: Short spiky hair, little above five feet tall, athletic.  
Personality: Annoying, lazy, changes according to time and location.


	4. Happy Place

**Drabble Might Count**

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry 3 and/or its characters. I have not played the first two games either.  
Thank you again, Brukaoru, for being a steady follower of this random series.  
Looking back, I saw the maturity difference between my writing style two years ago and the current story I'm working on. For all I know, improving my style rocks. By the way, the title for this chapter came from one of my younger brother's quotes whenever I randomly rant about DMC3. He imitated Dante's voice and said "I'm in my happy place," so this chapter is dedicated to him, although I seem to focus more on Vergil...  
He said he wondered if he should try playing DMC3 as well, because he enjoyed watching my battles with Jester.

What do you think will happen next? Let's welcome chaos.  
Oh, and a warning: Those without the complicated or perverted side of mind are heavily advised against reading the chapter below, not to mention those who do not like characters being OOC.

* * *

Randomness Four: Happy Place

He almost wanted to close his eyes and inhale the night air of the still street. Most of the younger folk would have been asleep by this moment. The only light under the sky of darkness accompanying him is from the front door. He had to come inside in about a quarter of an hour.

Tranquility is what he sought ever since the family moved here, for whatever reason he will never know. He wanted emptiness to fill his thoughts, to clear his mind of other troubles and for once seek a happy place. The darker side of his mind denied the suggestion, but he pushed even that side away.

In his black vest and slacks, people could easily tell him apart from other strangers on the street by his most evident inheritance from his father. His eyes held hardly the scowl he normally masked them with.

He stood still.  
Somewhere in the neighborhood, someone is getting killed.

That should not matter to him. After all, his only sane neighbors could be right about the overpopulation theory anyway. It all comes down to duality. Where there is life, there must also be death. Where there is intelligence, there must also be foolishness. Where there is boredom, there must also be some interruption to make it all fun again.

Something struck him on the back of his head. He could have withstood that, but somehow it rendered him motionless. The last strand of his thoughts remembered the second chapter of last year's Science syllabus before he fell face-forward.

A wave of hands caught him and held him up. He rolled aside and got off, only to see that now he stands in the middle of a mosh pit.  
'Huh? This isn't what I was expecting…' he exclaimed.

The trapdoor beneath his shoes gave way. The whole room he landed in is blue all around. A normal person would have felt nauseous at seeing the blend of so many shades of the color in even one side of the wall, but Vergil waited patiently for whatever was to come next.

An outline traced the shape of a door on that particular side of the wall. The brown wooden color melted into the outline, forming a solid door with a wooden knob, which would seem odd even in this era. A bald man opened it from the other side and came through. Before Vergil could ask him anything, the man screamed as if his throat had been slit; he then fell to the sea-patterned floor.

Vergil backed off in horror. Half of the room then collapsed, revealing a horde of scythe-wielding skeletons with blood-red lights in their hollow eyes. He took on a defensive stance, only to find that they knelt before him in submission. He is their dominator. His regular scowl returned, expecting obedience from all of them.

He had to give it all away, though, despite the sweetness of temptation.  
He has people to protect: himself and his family.  
He has places to take care of as well: his home and his happy place.

He walked backwards when Dante entered the room through the very door the bald man came in. He held out his palm when Dante passed him one of his guns.  
Vergil is also passed an odd look at his acceptance of the younger twin's help, or in this case, an older-looking younger twin wearing a red trench coat.

Nevertheless, this is one happy place he should not forget. One can let go of his inner true warrior and relish plain satisfaction from achieving something as simple as killing vermin.

From Dante's point of view:

He had been sitting – hiding on the roof over their porch while watching Vergil enjoy his time alone. This is one of the only chances for him to see Vergil without his trademark scowl. He had to spoil this moment by juggling Ebony and Ivory, ending up dropping Ebony by accident.

Dante could not cry aloud for help, otherwise his parents would know what he had done – again. He jumped down to the porch and landed next to the prone, unconscious body of his elder twin.  
"Damn it!" he hissed. "Now what do I do? Let's not panic – what did I learn back at camp? Some weird initials… DR ABC."  
It seems that the three-days-and-two-nights camp had taught him something vital after all.

D – Danger: Assess the situation to make sure no further danger is to come to you or the victim.  
R – Response: Check if the victim is able to respond to you. If the victim is not conscious or is unable to respond, follow further directions.  
A – Airway: Make sure the victim is rolled steadily to his side and let his tongue roll out. That should also clear the water from his mouth if he drowned.  
B – Breathing: See if the victim could breathe on his own. If not, proceed as stated below.  
C – Circulation: If the victim required help breathing, you are to administer CPR to the victim and check that his circulation is in proper condition.

His error is to panic in this situation. The oral manual had left out the vital trait of the learned rescuer to not panic.

Vergil is in no immediate danger, nor is he responding, so Dante quickly performed the rest of the emergency technique without a second thought that his twin might be safer off in Dreamland.

Worse for Dante, though, he did not do as instructed in the 'B' part of the process; he continued to 'C' even if Vergil is actually breathing calmly.

Hands shaking as he turned the unconscious form face-up, he tried to visually recall the procedure. He took a deep breath as he braced himself for this. "Just live, damn it…"

Dante pinched his twin's nose with his right thumb and forefinger while felt for the latter's breath in his lungs on his left hand. He inhaled the night air. His lips were half an inch from Vergil's when his eyes suddenly snapped open, resulting in Dante getting thrown backwards by pure shock.

"Vergil, I –" the younger twin began, but Vergil groaned and stood up to brush off any dirt left on him when he fell to the ground. "I can explain," Dante told him.

He looked down and saw Ebony, the same gun passed to him in his happy place. At any rate, though, that place is far away from where he stands now. He picked up the gun of limitless bullets and pointed it at Dante. "There is nothing to explain," he said as firmly as he could.

"I just thought you were – but – why don't we forget it all happened?" Dante suggested.  
"Fair enough," Vergil answered, flinging the firearm back at its true owner. Dante caught it before it could hit his forehead.

Before Dante could continue talking, Vergil made his way as quickly but as quietly in lengthened footsteps upstairs to their unfortunately shared bedroom. Dante locked the front door and ran up after his twin, trying to make him listen to reason until he dons on the earphones of his MP3 player and goes to bed listening to sounds other than Dante's whines.  
'Idiot,' Vergil thought, seeking the subconscious happy place he found for once in ten years.

* * *

Not really as humorous as the previous bunch, but inspiration is what drove me to type up stuff.  
My nose just bled this morning… now I think I've actually accomplished something, you know, because Vergil knows I'm perverted. 

Additional Character Info  
Name: Alan  
Role: Class joker (in lame mode.)  
General Appearance: Black hair parted in the middle, height not paid attention to by author(ess), probably a foot taller than Ethan, skinny but still adorable.  
Personality: Cool, perverted in a seductive way.  
Yes, a lot of boys in my class are perverts, as am I.


	5. Driven Mad

**Drabble Might Count**

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry 3 and/or its characters. I have not played the first two games either.  
Thank you, both Eric Draven201 and Brukaoru for reviewing; I won't be home this weekend – family, holiday, link those words – but I hope I could find some inspiration on the way, in the area and coming home. Stay tuned!  
At first I intended some yaoi in the previous chap, but then I thought: 'No, wait; that would make them out of character even in _my_ fiction, which is distorted enough. Besides, if I want to write about twincest, I should have a story by its own title for that purpose. This here is traditional camp memory.'  
I wrote this up from the ideas I get on my family's way to visit relatives. There was a time when my mom kept reminding my dad about slowing down a bit on the road. Honestly, there are times when I thought we really _will_ crash. If the Sparda family is partially normal, I'd really like to imagine Sparda's driving habits…

* * *

Randomness Five: Driven Mad

"No, Dante, you can't have a motorcycle," Eva sharply told him.  
"But – but –" Dante stammered, thinking up his words to win over her.  
"As _cool_ as you think they look, they can prove a real hazard on the open road. When you pass your driving test, you can start on the Fiat."  
"Eva's right; we don't want our Harrier to end up in a crash," Sparda agreed.  
"Speaking of crashing, honey, can you slow down a little?"  
"What do you mean, _slow down_?"  
"Why are you in such a hurry? It's not like it matters that they started dinner without us; we won't have to line up for our plates."

Sparda did not appear to be listening. He continued driving at this speed as though being late would very much displease Eva's relatives.

Vergil remembered as a child when he and Dante were late for their first camp. They were twelve, then, though that was five years ago. Time and again on the highway Eva had reminded him not to drive too fast, but demons have their own meaning of the word, it seems. When the car keys went missing, they were frantically searching around the house, leaving Eva to clean up the mess, of course. When they finally had it – Vergil found it in one of Dante's sneakers, for some strange reason – the memory of the drive haunted the twins for the rest of their lives.

Four times Vergil then thought the Harrier would collide with another car, but the demon was such an experienced driver – or it was due to pure luck – that they are alive and in one piece to this day.

Three times the four-wheel-drive made a drifting turn at certain sharp corners of roads in the region.

Twice Dante thought the SUV would crash through the metal railings and fly with the innate power and skill of the driver.

Not once they made a sound.

Back to the present, Eva took a peek at those in the back seat by pretending to examine her appearance in the car vanity mirror.

Dante and Vergil both looked dead ahead, too scared for their lives to argue in the driver's presence.

The sleek black SUV stopped so suddenly that Eva was not sure how much more the seatbelts could take and whether or not the airbags will work.

One of the neighbors next door, probably the father of one of Dante's classmates, had recommended to him to take his family with him to the go-kart center somewhere in the state, but thankfully for the twins, Eva was there. Besides, Sparda does not need a specific area to drive fast; he can do it anywhere on the road with a decent car.

'And to think open-house feasts are held _after_ Ramadan.'  
'We're just visiting relatives for dinner; that's all. I just don't get why they lived so far away…'

Telepathy is now their best method of conversation without disrupting their father's concentration. It was not always like this. On Sparda's more normal days, he would drive like everybody else, but when moments call for what he counts as desperate hurry, this means a race against time.

* * *

Once the family reached home, Eva decided to put her foot down.

"We need to talk."  
"Eva…" Sparda began when she shut the door to their bedroom.  
"From tomorrow onwards, _no more_ driving like you had a horde of Hells chasing the car." It was a command, not a request.  
"I've driven like this for fifty years. There's no way I can change how I drive." Eva sniffed. For a two-thousand-year-old demon, though he certainly is older than he looks and he had to be older than that by the time he sealed off the way to the demon realm, she did not think fifty years would be such a long time.

"Didn't you even consider how the boys might somehow take up after you and drive like that?"  
"That makes up for it already," Sparda replied vehemently.  
"Alright; we'll see if you like it after Dante takes his driving test."

"Dante's younger than Vergil."  
"Exactly," she finished, turning away from him.

* * *

A week after the twins' birthday…

Sparda sat as if a sword had pinned him straight up. He had no escape, held down by the seatbelt in the passenger seat.

Dante has _that_ smirk on his face, one that marks his jubilation in obtaining his driver's license.

For once since last week's celebration, Vergil actually appears to smile. Sparda did not think he is actually enjoying this, but he is.

Eva sported a similar look, sitting directly behind the passenger seat to observe if her obstinate husband will show any sign of change; maybe a little fear, at least.  
She stifled a laugh with her right index finger, pretending to rub her itchy nose.

Once the small, golden hatchback made its way out of the car park, Dante maneuvered it safely through a jam of cars that are about to enter the shopping complex's parking area. He signaled right before turning that way at a junction. His dangerous yet impeccable driving style mirrored that of his father's.

"Hey Dante, can you drift?" Vergil asked from behind the driver. Sparda's heart started to beat wildly. Dante's enthusiasm in cars had begun with his hobby of playing 'Gran Turismo 4'. It developed when he came upon those fast-paced car movies, like 'The Fast and the Furious' for instance, then Chapter 5 in Science where he learned more about car engines.

With opinions on which car is better than the other, shared with his friends, he is no newcomer to driving.

"If we have to round corners," Dante answered, slowing down to a stop as the petite vehicle reached the traffic light. His skills would be better respected by other reckless drivers around here if he drove some sports car like a Mazda or a Porsche, or an SUV like the Harrier.

But he has years to spend to perfect his driving skills through practice. If he did not enter college and earn a normal job some time in the future, he might as well become a racecar driver.  
In any case, this raw talent has more uses than the driver himself could imagine, or so thinks the sibling.

"Alright – the next time we go shopping, Vergil drives, okay?" Sparda requested, earning a smug, victorious smile from his tactful wife.

* * *

My elder bro drove a Fiat Punto, which my mom used to drive. It's supposed to be passed to me next year, despite the numerous accidents it's been through since it's handed to him…  
If you want me to write about the twins' birthday party they had in class – total and utter chaos – do tell; I might add that in the next chapter.  
This feels shorter than other chapters, I know, but I also don't know whether or not readers like my classmates' appearance and mine in my drabbles. 

Additional Character Info  
Name: Boon Qwan, better known as Qwan.  
Role: Juvenile delinquent.  
General Appearance: Short dark hair, typical small Asian eyes, taller than Alan by inches.  
Personality: Hot-tempered, emotional at times, more often a tease.  
One student character for every chapter. I hope I can get more than twenty-five for this list of short stories…


	6. Hysteria

**Drabble Might Count**

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry 3 and/or its characters. I have not played the first two games either.  
Besides thanks I give my reviewers, I'm sorry for the extra-long time gap between my posting of the last chapter and this one, but when it comes to stories that are written at random points – drabbles, as normally called – housework duty is not to be shirked off.  
In this chapter, I really do not intend any yaoi between our beloved twins. There's my favorite brotherly-love factor, but this love comes in the form of concern for the welfare of a close one.

Randomness Six: Hysteria (Insomnia)

Heat possessed the town like a flute-player charming a cobra.

The air-conditioner in the twins' room did not work as well as it used to. Even if he slept without his shirt on, he could feel sweat on his back. Tonight must be the warmest summer night in this country, and on top of that, summer lingers all year round, there near the equator.

It was humid in the bedroom even if he disposed of his sheet. He lay awake on the bed, holding a small red pillow close to his head. Maybe he should put it in the freezer for half an hour and sleep with what becomes of it.

But he could hardly get out of bed. Neither Ethan nor Alan came that day, so he was the hardest remaining player on the field for his class's team.  
He tried, still, and opened the door for fresh air, but it was hotter outside than it was in there. He suspected that if he opened the room window, too, it would be hell on Earth out there. Were he to seek an alternative, he could check on his parents' bedroom, but he had the feeling that he might not be welcome in the middle of the night.

As a result, he turned to the closest option he had.  
"Verge… Verge, get up."  
He retreated when he heard a rasping snore, but his twin's eyes remain closed. "What?" he finally responded.  
"I can't sleep," Dante answered.  
"So what do you want me to do?" Vergil mumbled.

Hearing that, Dante backed away slightly. "Vergil…"  
"What now?" he asked, curling his fist.  
"Are you okay?" He could not believe he asked this.  
"Go back to sleep, Dante."  
"I can't seem to. It's too hot in here."

Now it is Vergil's turn to stare at him awkwardly. Unlike Dante, he did not sleep with a bare chest, but his neck and shoulders are still visible in the dim moonlight. He wiped sweat off his brow.  
"Maybe you just need to fix the air-conditioner. That might do the trick," he stated.  
"Really?" Dante asked.  
"Isn't it _that_ obvious? Now leave me alone and fix the damn conditioner or I'll have to send you to bed myself."  
With that, Vergil turned to one side, his back toward Dante, holding his small blue pillow. The latter still had matters of logic to figure out.

"Well, Dante, it's time to get the toolbox," he told himself.

He withstood the heat in his half-clothed condition, what with the absence of a belt on his pants.  
In his determination of retrieving his father's collection of repairing tools, he thought of Vergil's reaction in the morning if he _did_ fix the air-conditioner.  
'He wouldn't give a damn. He only cares about himself – so much that he wouldn't even give me a pat on the head and say: "Well done, servant…"'  
Dante almost knocked his head on the low ceiling of the store-room at that last part. 'Whoa. I must watch less of the Grim Adventures of Billy and Mandy.'

As a note, Dante _does_ watch cartoons, and he loves good sarcasm when there is a possibility of sharing the element of fun with his brother.

When the room door opened and closed again, Vergil rose to a sitting position. In the dim light, Dante could see his twin's hair being slightly messed-up in his sweaty sleep.  
"The heat got to you, didn't it?" Dante teased.  
"I didn't think you'd take me seriously," Vergil replied, staring in his little brother's eyes with the absence of his usual scowl.  
Dante blinked. If he told Vergil what he thought earlier, things could twist weirdly.  
"What; you doubt that I could be a great mechanic someday?"  
"Dan, we're not even in a Science-streamed class. Neither of us is taking some Engineering degree next year."  
Again he blinked. "Whatever. There are other things I can think of."

Shutting awkward thoughts out, Vergil reached for a chair to stand on. "Could you at least turn on the room light if you seriously want to fix this decrepit thing?"  
"Sure…" Dante replied with a relieved smile, doing as his elder twin told him to.

When extricating the filter of the cooling device, he suspected Dante might be up to something rash. When he turned, he saw Dante seated upon his own bed, watching him as if he knew better about air-conditioners than his playful self does.

"Who counted on you anyway?" Vergil muttered under his breath, stepping down from the chair.  
"Where are you going?" Dante asked.  
"To wash the filters," he replied, holding the plastic-framed filters at arm's length at the sight of the dust clogged on them. "In the meantime, you can take note on what to do the next time I tell you to fix something."  
"I thought you weren't serious about it?"  
"Dante, since when am I _not_ serious?"

He blinked again. This must be another of his twin's mind games.

He shrugged and climbed the chair, examining the interior of the air-conditioner. To his surprise, there were dust-devils in there – and they are _real_.  
"Mess up the air-cond in our room, will you?" Dante said aloud.

Vergil returned to the room to find that the whole of it has been covered with even more dust.  
"What happened?" he demanded with his normal death glare back in place.

The dust-devil chased by Dante bumped into his left knee like a soccer ball. He could see it glancing frantically from him to Dante, ending up exploding into more dust.

"Hey, at least it's gone," Dante told him, brushing dust off his twelve-inch ruler.  
"Clean up the rest," Vergil commanded, fitting the filters back in the air-conditioner. He returned to his now-dusty bed right away, wanting no more talking with his brother tonight, since that had cost him comfort and a good night's sleep.

Dante knew he could forget about his earlier thought inside store-room. Sighing softly, he looked for a brush that strangely came along with Sparda's toolbox.  
'If Mom left it in there…'  
Focusing on cleaning dust off most surfaces in the room, he took the brush by the handle and gathered dust in an unused cardboard box.  
'One last surface…'

"Hey Vergil…" he called, but his twin pretended not to hear. "Do you need me to clean up your bed, too?"  
He let out a wordless reply that made Dante jump back to his own bed.

With renewed determination, he picked up the brush and strode to the bed with blue sheets, pulling the azure blanket off Vergil's right shoulder.  
He got up again, _very_ irritated. "What now?" His eyes blazed like he would go berserk anytime – or worse.  
"You only said 'clean up the rest'. Does your bed count, too?" Dante asked, gesturing at the still-dusty quilted bed sheet.  
"Well, if you cleaned up yours…" Vergil replied tiredly. "I did," he replied.

"Then go ahead," Vergil told him, sweeping his hair back as he walks to Dante's red bed.  
"What –" Dante began when his brother took his sanctuary.  
"There's no harm in changing places every now and then. After all, we're twins, aren't we?"

Dante stared at him a moment longer. "Of course – there are other things people can tell us apart with." With that, he brushed the last heap of dust into the box and earned his much-needed sleep.

The next morning, things did not go as Dante expected.

* * *

You could only guess.  
I'm counting on a nosebleed tonight for making Dante think he'll have a nosebleed.  
It used to be a pretty short chapter when I first type it in, but it's all I could think of when I have the plotline locked up in my mind. 

Additional Character Info  
Name: Robin Then; his surname is always made fun of.  
Role: Typical teenager.  
General Appearance: Short black hair, perhaps as tall as Alan.  
Personality: Somewhat like Boon Qwan, but chats with the girls more often. Doesn't mind people staring at his boxers when he changes in class for PE.


	7. Names Do Not Hurt

**Drabble Might Count**

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry 3 and/or its characters. I have not played the first two games either.  
I profusely thank my reviewers, though I hardly have the capability of reviewing myself. I should fix that.  
I've always wanted to write something about their names, because Sparda is only one name and some people have used that as the surname for Dante and Vergil. I even use it at times, but then I compared that to the fact that most people around where I live don't really have last names either, so…  
This should take place the first time they meet the aloof class geek.  
By the way, I'm sorry for the extremely long delay; I know it's not regular for that to happen. Form Five Class of 2007 in SMSKL had just graduated on November the third, so I temporarily lost my muse, plus I haven't been studying lately, or even writing; I watched Bleach.  
The twins felt so betrayed… but they met new friends.

Randomness Seven: Names Do Not Hurt

It unsettled him.

Classes had begun since yesterday and he knew hardly anybody's names yet, except perhaps the class monitor and his tall assistant, Ethan and Alan.

'Ethan, Alan. That sounded weird,' he thought.

Dante must have known everybody in class by now except for one or two students in the corner – or corners, for that matter. The troublemakers of the class easily clicked with him faster than he could say "Jackpot!" No wonders at that and no mysteries how.

That morning he kept his head down in case some form of projectile would fly around the classroom. He tried to focus on reading his Basic Economics textbook, but the class was just too noisy.  
The girls at a square at the back of the class kept talking and laughing. 'Perhaps their mothers never taught them ethics.'  
A loud-mouthed, bespectacled boy is fooling with his mates, sometimes getting physical and involving items around the class such as the provided broom and dustpan, shaming the name of all who bore the spiky-haired appearance.  
The soft-looking student with curly hair whose seat is behind Dante's is talking to some girls, most of whom do not sit at the back of the class to chat and hide away from teachers.  
Dante joined in the major boys' conversation regarding the soccer match they watched the previous night.

'Honestly; he never learns,' he exclaimed in disdain.

But one student watches it all happen from one corner, from the table right in front of the teacher's. She is the smallest girl in class by size and by age, so he assumed.

He made no move to know her until the madness of the class pushed him to. Curiosity mounted, forcing him to wonder how she could still write a full paragraph in this condition.

"Has the class always been like this?" Vergil asked.  
She righted the glasses on the bridge of her nose and answered: "The teachers complained even the previous year."  
"How can you stand it?"  
It was not the first time she was asked that and she had the feeling she will answer it for so much longer.  
"When you're the spectator and not the partaker, it's easier to think clearly of what you're planning to do."  
"What is your advice to someone who is neither?"  
"You're already doing it. You started talking to a spectator."

He glanced at the class again and noticed that she is eyeing Dante's circle. If she had an eye for him, she could have one for the twin as well.  
He changed the topic. "You don't seem much of a spectator, doing your work."  
"I do no such work. People always mistake my writing hobby as a hardworking trait, but I do this because I was given work."  
"What do you write?" Vergil demanded.  
"I've always planned to write novels, but for now, I stick to stories I can easily picture," she answered, jotting down another sentence.

"What's your name?"  
"Nadiah, but call me Nay. It pisses me off when they always pronounce my name but didn't spell it right. Yours?"  
"I'm Vergil."  
"I was confident you're another student from overseas, so aren't you normally addressed by your last name?" she questioned.

He had no idea how to answer this. There had been no answer as to how his family got here in the first place.  
"Malays don't usually have last names either, do they?" he shot back.  
"Our name system's – how do I say this – simple. We took it up from the Arabs that came in; say what, seven centuries ago? In that system, the first part of a son's name consists of 'Muhammad' after the Muslim prophet and the second part consists of 'bin' and his father's name, for example Muhammad Ariff bin Abu Bakar and Muhammad Shazni bin Mihat. In my case, my full name is Nadiah Farhanah binti Zulkifli. 'Binti' is for daughters."  
"Does it always have to be the father's name?"  
"It's compulsory."

Vergil sat silent for a moment. If he implies that name system into his own, he would sound really odd and mismatched. He hoped Nay would not ask for his father's name and connect the dots.

He dropped the subject and observed her instead, being less interested in whatever nonsense the rest of the class had gotten up to.

Seeing that he is not willing to continue talking, she returned to her work, not wishing to disturb someone who might need some alone-time.

Pretending to be immersed in Chapter 2 of the Basic Economics textbook, he saw that she had glanced in Dante's circle's direction again.  
As irritated as he is, he did not want her to think he would ask her out. Instead, he gave her a sidelong glare.  
Her reply is a silent look clearly asking 'What?'  
"Did you perchance have a liking for those who don't spike their hair?" he demanded, trying not to sound personal.  
"Well, there's the Lord of the Class, for one, if you'd keep the secret, but to tell you the truth, I wish he could spike his hair – not directly upward; maybe at some angle to the back."  
Not familiar with her code-words, he frowned in confusion. "You do?"  
"To tell you another truth, spiky hair turns me on."

Vergil blinked. In Dante's circle, four boys had their hair spiked and three of them don't, excluding Dante. "Is that why you're always looking in that direction?"  
"There's an Eye-Magnet there."  
"Define Eye-Magnet."

She slapped her own forehead. "That's entirely up to you," she answered, returning to her blue folder. Somebody had just stood up to yell in Dante's face, only to end up saying "Just kidding; just joking…" and sitting back down. To her, the behavior must have been typical of the boy.

He narrowed his eyes slightly and hoped she did not notice that he was trying to read whatever the hell she wrote.  
It was to his eyes' dismay that tiny minions of Hell occupy each line on the page, spacing at intervals in teams called 'words'. To simplify the figurative expression, her handwriting is small, uneven and very,_very_ hard to read.  
It was no wonder nobody hung out with her.

Even though she should know no living human could skim through the pages of the folder and carbon copy each word, she turned to an empty page to hide what she most recently wrote.  
"I take it you had found _your_ version of an Eye-Magnet."  
It was Vergil's turn to slap his own forehead. Dante glanced in his direction and blinked.  
"I didn't know you're a ladies' man, bro," the younger and evidently brattier twin remarked.  
"I feel so insulted," Nay told him. "I'm not even completely a lady."

Dante shrugged and returned to his seat. The bell soon rang, and to everyone else's surprise, the teacher for Mathematics did not come.  
'How many free periods are we to be put to?' Vergil wondered as he braced himself for another barrage of conversations in the background.

With a final glance at Nay, he opened a new exercise book to write in. Its pristine white pages margined with a single red line each and arrayed with even, blue horizontal lines, tempted him to write something remarkable and appreciable. He frowned; he may be a better scholar than Dante, but not half the thinker of fiction he is.

With a sigh, he began writing the words to his own doom.  
'_Dear diary…'_

* * *

And yes, our classroom had a broom and a dustpan. The janitors/maids are hired to clean up most of the compound, but we students are supposed to clean our own classrooms.  
Eye-Magnet is a term coined by Nay which is used to stand for a person who always seems to catch the eyes of an admirer. 

Additional Character Info  
Name: Ariff. Well, you've seen me reveal his full name above.  
Role: Class musician.  
General Appearance: Either buzzed or curly hair, depending on the semester of the year, shorter than Ethan.  
Personality: Generally friendly, but sometimes naughty to female classmates that are acquainted with him.


	8. Hair Lowering Business

**Drabble Might Count**

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry 3 and/or its characters. I have not played the first two games either.  
By the way, that last chapter had been posted online for some time, but I forgot to publish it.  
Dan, Ver and I sprayed Yaoi Repellant here. I think it worked.  
Mini-summary: Vergil lets his hair down for a day. What happens at school when they have PE that day? Will Robin get a haircut?

* * *

Randomness Eight: Hair-Lowering Business

The rainy season had not bided well for him. Everyday in class, at least one person would be blowing mucus out of his or her nose. Tissue paper is always in demand. Someone would come to him and ask "Vergil, have you got any tissues?" and he would reply: "Ask Nay," as she always seems to be the one to bring a whole box for the class to use, and the class would waste it.

However, during one particular rainy Tuesday in class, the Principal himself has made himself welcome in this class of ruffians and hooligans, give or take a few with a heart of gold or some nerds with hypocritical intentions.

The Principal would come to class at least once a month – more frequently if needed – to personally talk to the students about discipline. This time, he emphasizes on their academic performance, chipping in personal appearance for later.  
So far, he has stated that Dante could have done better in Principle of Accountancy and Moral Studies, and that if he spends more time studying than fooling around, he could achieve five credits in his school-end examination and enter college. His twin, on the other hand, has yet to work on History if he is to achieve straight 'A's.

As stated in the first chapter, no teacher talks to the twins about their hair. The platinum-white that differ with everyone else's dark, black or brown shade is already enough.  
Keeping that aside, the Principal still talks to the rest of the class about their appearance.

"Young man," he said to Robin Then, "you'd better get a haircut before tomorrow or you'll be sent to my office. If I have to, I'd look for you myself and make sure I give you one." And with that, the Principal reminds the current class teacher to send the roughly innocent one to the place where he receives calls from distraught parents.

It gave Vergil a thought, though; what if he lets his hair down for a Wednesday?  
'Then it'll be the first time since Form One that I don't gel my hair,' he stated, remembering the tricks he and Dante played on others when they were less than twelve years of age. 'But it won't be a part of _his_ plans this time.'

Thus on Wednesday morning, he woke up at five in the morning. His plan is to wake up so early in the morning and set things to his liking behind the scenes.  
'Dante may have thought he was the last to turn in last night, but he certainly would not count on this,' he thought, taking one red T-shirt from his little twin's clothing drawer to put in a corner of his backpack. He did not have to take it to the next level by having to share Dante's shorts.  
Vergil looked at the clock on Dante's bedside table, which was set to 6:50a.m in the morning, since he expects his twin to be downstairs preparing his breakfast.  
He did not even remember when he promised to take the role of the first person to be up in the morning, waking everyone else after he is ready.  
'I'll be counting on you, brother,' Vergil thought, giving his sleeping twin an evil smirk.

Dante awoke at the stated time to his clock's alarm, 'Attack' by 30 Seconds to Mars. 'I've _got_ to listen to more bands,' he thought, bored. He yawned and stretched, letting the sheets slide down his shirtless, well-toned body. He turned the alarm off and jumped enthusiastically out of bed as it is Wednesday. He did not even realize, in the darkness, a snoozing body in the smooth, untangled sheets in the bed on the other side of the room.

Only after he dries his hair did he realize Vergil was still asleep. "Hey, Verge! Get up! Do you realize you overslept?"  
'Small prices to pay.' "At least I don't spend as much time in the bathroom as you do," he told him.  
"Which means…?" Dante realized that if Vergil had been asleep this whole while, Sparda has not awoken, and in this lateness…

In short, Dante shoved Vergil into the bathroom, woke Sparda and prepared breakfast for Vergil and himself right after putting his uniform on, but in this frantic rush, Vergil could only finish half of his croissant, not to mention that if he had finished his coffee, he might not be able to contain himself in advance. Readers have been forewarned of Sparda's driving.

The younger twin noticed that something was missing in their moments of panic, but all of his and Vergil's possessions were intact for the day.  
"Verge…" Dante began, noticing that his twin's hair is actually down, unsupported by any form of styling gel.  
"What is it?" Vergil asked, sporting his usual frown. It is easy enough to fool the one person who thinks he knows him best.  
"Is it really okay?" Dante uncomfortably asked his grumpy mirror.  
"If I actually had the time to fix my hair up, the driver of that stupid yellow car we saw on the road could have ended up worse than it had now."  
"What could be worse than crashing in an accident?"  
"The driver could be dead."  
"You've got a point," Dante exclaimed, still wondering how the Harrier dodged the stupid yellow car's mad determination at cutting in front of the SUV at the roundabout.

When they both entered the classroom, various reactions are exhibited by the rest of the class. "Dante, did you _brainwash_ Vergil?" Alan asked. "Someone without a brain can't do that to someone with one," Vergil responded, casually placing his bag at his seat, but little did he know that he had drawn Nay's attention with a remark that she had mentally linked to something dirty.  
"What?" she asked him.  
"If I don't have a brain, then tell me why you always lost at Ace Combat Zero," Dante said to him, ignoring the other scholar.  
"If I am to come up with a remark for that, I'd fall to your pitiful level," Vergil sighed.  
"Heck, you already did," Dante pointed out, tugging at a lock of his twin's unsupported hair.

Their first period on Wednesday morning is English Language, and their teacher is old and forgetful, so Vergil's mind sought spontaneous ideas on how to confuse everyone else when they are in the same uniform. Dante would always tuck his orange polo shirt out, and to imitate this, the elder twin had to experience small discomfort.

All in all, it was a fitting price to pay for delaying the whole period, which consists of 'learning through singing', a method that Vergil has yet to understand how it helps with learning the language. Maybe he just preferred not to open his mind to unconventional means that consist of singing songs that exist back in the 80's.

The History teacher deals with no nonsense, so Vergil behaved his best in her class, not responding to Dante's foolish questions.  
The Science teacher, Mr. Austin, thought it was a good look for him and he should take on this appearance at all times.  
The class practically exploded at that.

Come fourth period PE, after their morning break, he has not stopped. The early-morning plan had worked for him when he donned on his – or his brother's – red T-shirt.  
"Fine. Do as you please," Dante had said. Before he took his position, he took off his own red shirt.  
That drew gasps from the girls seated at the cafeteria next to the field.  
Dante tossed the shirt to one corner of the field. "Good idea. This'll make it easier to tell players of one team from another," Ethan exclaimed, taking off his own shirt.

Most of the boys hung their shirts at the back of their team's goalpost. This meant Nay had to keep sharper focus on the game.  
And speaking of most of the boys, one would rather choke his own pride than not let this day be one in which he succeeds most.

The disguise did not continue when they are at home.  
"Well, Verge, you may have pulled quite a prank on the school today, but I bet I could pull off your look."  
"Dream on, Dante."

* * *

Have I stated the Principal's name yet? If I haven't, maybe the next chapter could bring his name into action, unless the decision below is made.

I'm sorry for the absolutely-long delay. It's past exam season, and my final year of high school has ended, so I'll have to recall past memories for inspiration – if you still prefer that I type fanfics about Dante and Vergil in school. Well, _my_ school.  
I'm definitely going to college next year, so I'd like to ask you guys a question:  
Would you rather have them enter a college, continue with everyday drabbles or resume school-related fooleries?  
Well, it's not like my characters really add to the flavor of my stories anyway... but I'd still like to hear from you.

Additional Character Info  
Name: Shazni  
Role: Side joker or verbal offender of an annoying pest – I'll explain more on that if I ever get to Randomness Twenty-Four of Twenty-Five.  
General Appearance: Just about as tall as Ethan, darker skin – said to be similar to native farmers round here – black-rimmed rectangular glasses, short and curly dark hair.  
Personality: Generally lazy when it comes to studying, but joins the spotlight-guys in conversation, though he listens a lot. Sarcastic in most of his jokes. A gentleman when around ladies.


	9. Drive All Through The Night

**Drabble Might Count**

Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry 3 and/or its characters. I have not played the first two games either.  
I don't think I'll keep on adding my previous classmates' information, seeing as in the end they turned out not to be so much of friends.  
Truthfully I've never driven before and I am more clueless and less caring about cars than anyone else in my family, excuse that, but I really felt like writing a Sparda drabble. And as a note, Malaysia is a right-hand-drive country, so it could be a little difficult for readers who are used to left-hand-drive (driver's seat on the left side of the car).

* * *

Randomness Nine: Drive All Through the Night

He worked on his customized purple notebook for the past hour. The boys have retreated to their room, and dearest Eva herself lay asleep in bed alone, tired from the day she had to put up with.

How the boys had grown. Whatever forces that followed him across countries and great lengths to seek and destroy him and his family, he had the strength to conquer them, to bring those would-be killers to their knees.  
He is the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda.  
And he works there and now as a management consultant at a local airline company while his wife works as an accountant for a stationery company. Where there is business, there is money, and Sparda will do what he could to ensure that his family has enough money to live comfortably. Maybe in his old age he could start a business and let his sons inherit it, although Vergil may be more worthy to accept it since Dante is not interested in the corporate world.

He closed the lid of the notebook.

Speaking of his younger son's disinterest, he remembered Dante's interest and impulsive instincts. The boy had already inherited it from him, the trait that makes the possessor confident in what he could do, resist the defiance others would voice about his abilities; his passion.  
Driving it is, so to speak.  
He took a look at Eva again, her slight figure enclosed under a comforter-blanket of synthetic fiber. He could see how the cotton bed-sheet gave her comfort by the ease with which she breathes.

He did not stroke her hair or face as he leaves. He feared he would wake her and disrupt her peaceful slumber like before. He needed to visit again his champion, his advocate on the road, his symbol of wealth in the less-than-actually-rich land. The Toyota Harrier's pitch-black coating glistened in the light of the porch and the street just outside. Over the fence to the left, the lights are still on, the folks probably still up doing work or seeking entertainment on computers, as they always do.

He did not mind them; he paid heed to the keys to his car, the movements of the mechanism when the door to the driver's seat is unlocked. He opened the gates to his house and drove straight out, having reverse-parked the car in the evening when he arrived home from work.

The Asian SUV is now out of the mostly-peaceful neighborhood. He needed to map out a destination for him to head to; that had always helped him making a decision of how he drives. He had to know where to go and when to reach there. Those are to blame for his level of skill.  
He can go anywhere he wanted to, but he will have to return home eventually. He could drive all the way out of town on a highway and return after rounding an exit, and before his full return, of course, he will have to fill up the petrol at a gas station.

He tried to picture the journey as a race on a specified track.

The Harrier zoomed forth, overtaking two cars before the silver continental car could overtake the red local.  
'Let's see what they think of _this_ machine.'  
And to think he had been afraid once that Dante would drift like he saw in the movies. He turned sharply at an ample-spaced curve, applying visual lessons into action.

He is now in control.  
But perhaps until drops of water pattered on his windshield.  
Refusing to let elements deter his will, he did not brake but allowed the momentum of his drive take him onwards. The Harrier glided smoothly, the grip of its four wheels never failing to guide the vehicle's directions. He pressed the accelerator pedal lightly – he had to keep to the speed limit.

All of a sudden, a gray local car came cutting from the right lane. Sparda tried not to falter; he has been in these situations before.  
Simultaneously glancing at his rearview mirror while keeping an eye on the metalwork worthy only of a recycle-yard, the Dark Knight placed the accelerator on half and shifted his transportation to the rightmost lane where he might not be overtaken, in which he could possibly move the fastest.  
But the car is still not satisfied; it began moving faster than policemen would even dare to.

He thought of the option of being either 'cowardly and smart' or 'brave and stupid'. The latter option is the mentality of the majority of drivers in this country, so being the outsider he is, he picked the former, navigating the well-conditioned car into a lane the gray car would not enter. For a moment he thought it would leave him and his Harrier alone at that, but the strange car with an even stranger driver tailed him to the next highway.

'You really wanted to race that badly, don't you? I'll give you one you'll never forget.'  
Knowing that the foolish driver would not see his face, Sparda smirked and turned right where both cars would have to slow down at a U-turn.

The car followed him still, attempting to have race the Harrier up. Once both cars are of neck-to-neck position, he could see the driver smirking at him while holding up a vile gesture.  
Sparda hoped the stupid man did not see him shake his head. 'I ain't a doctor, but this weirdo needs a treatment, and to him and probably more people I'll give.'

The rain has lessened gradually over his time of driving, so now he has less to worry about if he accelerated rapidly up the highway.

Now their speed limit is less restricted. Both local and foreign car, each mirroring its owner, wove past the small number of cars that still used the wide road at this time of night. Sparda navigated his car as if in a routine; it felt so natural to him after all those years.  
His fuel is not far from running out. He had to think fast and probably drive a little more slowly.  
'Maybe it is time to give the man his medicine.'

He allowed the local driver to hear the crescendo that is the burst of sound from his engine. While the gray car is pressed hard to go faster, Sparda relaxed and allowed his own SUV to cruise the barely-gentle road smoothly. Now his speed limit matches that of the numbers posted on a signboard at points along the way.

After a few minutes, he slowed even more at the sight of fire and smoke rising up from somewhere. No doubt he saw the gray car, overturned and now truly wrecked. He searched around there for any other car that got involved in the accident, but one car leaving a tire-track a few meters behind drove little beyond the crashed car and pulled over. The driver must feel responsible for some reason. It may have been that the gray car sped in the direction of the red Eastern car but was avoiding it because it was moving at an unhurried pace comparing to the gray car. The fool of a driver who asked for a race ended up trying to avoid an accident caused by a lack of control in speed.

From competing to win, the man's attitude had left him struggling to survive.  
Sparda was glad nobody else was truly involved in this, even if one person felt that he is to blame for such a gruesome accident. Then again, he did use the involvement of other cars to show the rash driver what would happen if he kept this up.

He filled his tank up to full at the nearest petrol station. He could not be bothered by the rising oil prices when there are bigger things in the world to worry about, but he is not the one in charge of the world.  
'Are my sons the ones, then?'

He shook the notion off his head. When he arrived home, he quietly pulled into the driveway and locked the trusty, powerful vehicle manually.

Sparda thought of them again. Vergil is the more power-hungry of his kids, which made him likely to rule _this_ world at one point or another.  
He wondered if he really wanted his young to rule the world. The responsibility is not his, but if someone really will dominate the world, the more demonic of the twins seems quite likely.  
When he thought of that other son of his, he gasped; he also remembered the cocky smile the reckless driver gave him earlier. Dante has a tendency to swagger, but if he really will drive to the content of his arrogance rather than his pleasure…  
'He won't.' Sparda tried to recall the way his younger son drove the smaller car driven more often by Eva, the Fiat Punto. He had driven fast but still followed the road rules. Someone else might get him in an accident while he is innocent, but so far, he is always there when Dante drove. 'If I _wasn't_ there…'

A smile touched his lips as he undressed for the night in the darkness of his bedroom. Dante will have Vergil by his side, and elders always provide the younger with guidance. If they do get separated somehow – but they _always_ are. They're cool. They can handle things on their own.  
As he lay on his side of the bed, he can feel a slender forearm up his face. Fingers are feeling his silky platinum-white hair.  
There are so many ways a woman can tell when her husband is back, even when she is asleep.

* * *

When you see me writing this, you know how upset I am about local drivers' bad habits. Well, I displayed some of their attitude in this. Were I to put a list of their habits, I'd take more than this chapter for that to happen.  
I really made up that last part.


	10. The Soundproof Room

**Drabble Might Count**

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry characters. I haven't made any Mysterious Ticking Noise videos myself either. The location setting in this chapter (the univ) is pretty obviously fictional and doesn't exist in the moderately-unsafe city that probably isn't big enough to have its own Batman. I also don't own the two non-DMC characters mentioned near the end here.  
I'm sorry I haven't been updating any of my stories for so long. I'm stuck so close to the end of Calculations; I hope I can make it up with something else.  
On another note, this is a continuation of my Drabbles series, never mind which year they are in for this entry.

Randomness Ten: The Soundproof Room

It was Open Day at some university within Sunway City, not far from the college itself. He did not bother knowing the name of the institution yet as he is, so far, only following his parents and twin brother around to check out other universities in case one of their current applications got rejected.  
But there cannot be much gap in their intelligence, between he and Vergil, or so Dante thought. Of course, he who chooses to don blue is more diligent in his studies, but he – in his red warmth – always managed to find things on his own. Most of those things don't happen to be leftover findings from his brother.

Indeed, that day when he strayed from the three – browsing through program brochures while being 'assisted' by a program counselor – he stumbled upon the most interesting room. There was nobody in this corridor, so he opened the somewhat heavy door to have a better look at the room's interior. The walls are lined with some sort of soft material, quite possibly to absorb sound. There was a layer of firm mattress covering the whole floor of the moderate-sized room. He stepped in and measured that the steps he can take from one side of the room to the opposite is about five, and within walking speed at that.  
'Hmm… This room might just fit three to four sweaty musicians…' He looked around for a power outlet, but found none. 'It could be a jamming room just for drummers.' The floor is flat enough for the kit to be placed there without falling over.

He wondered what it would be like to drum or jam in a room alone, with no one outside to hear him rock – or make mistakes. Or mix different songs and lyrics, or rhythm and melody, just as he likes without having to hear anyone complaining, not even of the noise.  
'This is like every self-proclaimed perfectionist musician's dream! Hey, Nay would really love this place! It's definitely got plenty of room for a tiny flutist like her!' he thought.

He went to lean against one of the lined walls; it felt like an office-worker's leather working seat. He knew the feeling because his father's personal computer seat has a similarly comfortable surface. And the reason he had to use Sparda's personal computer is because his own computer is unable to function, which he later on found out was caused by the power source being void of the plug.  
His brother played the sickest jokes.

Dante's shoes barely sunk into the room-encompassing mattress. He tapped his right foot once; the mattress was firm enough for his foot's contact with it to produce a soft sound. He tapped twice more after three beats.  
'Tap, one, two, three tap-Tap, one, two, three –' he began tapping his feet to a rhythm.

'Tap, tap, tap – tap, tap, tap-tap Clap!'  
He liked the progression of the rhythm. He repeated this two-bar pattern, then paused before getting to a new tapping set.

'Tap, clap, tap, clap-tap, clap, tap-tap, clap.'  
He was very glad there was no one to watch him. 'When I get better at this, I should consider taking up tap-dancing,' he thought, taking a little break.  
He sat down in a corner of the room, wondering if he can re-enact some songs through the tap-and-clap. He then remembered those hilarious 'Mysterious Ticking Noise' videos. 'If only there were five other people around to provide their voices, 'cause I'm the mysterious tap-and-clap noise,' Dante mused, leaning more comfortably against the sound-absorbers. He had to rest after all that rhythmic action.

* * *

Eva looked around the office-room for her other little boy. "Dante's been away for half an hour now, I think. I doubt he's been in the bathroom all this while," she stated.  
"Naw – the bathroom can't be interesting enough to keep his attention for half an hour," Sparda replied good-naturedly. He smiled as he turned to his proud-and-cool son. "Go look for Dante, 'kay?"  
"Why does it have to be me?" Vergil questioned.  
"Did he bring his mobile along?"  
"Maybe, maybe not."  
"Well, I didn't bring mine, so I won't be able to ask him where he is," Sparda answered.

"Go look for your brother. I'm sure we can count on you to find him," Eva said to the son that is there.  
"Yes, mother."  
She knew well how her boys are telepathic. Sure enough, this has saved much on their phone bills.

* * *

Unpredictably, Dante is in a room all by himself, which is contrary to what Vergil knew as his extroverted nature. The trail of thoughts did end here, and from what Vergil sensed in his mind, he had been doing something he likely didn't want the world to see… yet.

"Dante?" he called out, standing at the frame of the door which separates the room from the outside world.  
The occupant immediately stood up from his corner.  
"Verge, check out this room I found. It's soundproof, so it's good for rehearsing music, but I didn't find any power socket here. There's a chance this university is a fan of classical and not rock music," Dante told him, inviting him inside.

The better-read twin cautiously peered at the room's interior decoration. "Are you sure that's what it's for?" he asked.  
"Of course. Watch this." Dante began tapping his feet in rhythm, with the occasional clap adding variation.

Vergil's jaw dropped halfway before he took a step back to the corridor. The big door swings outwards, so he had to move it a little in order to read the words on the door's sign.  
"Dante, this room isn't for music or performance rehearsals," he said, bringing the door to ninety-degrees from its frame.  
"Really? So what is it for?" the red-wearing twin standing in the middle of the room asked. He had stopped tapping and clapping.  
"It says on the door: _Counseling Unit 3_," Vergil stated, readying to shut the door.

Too late did Dante finally comprehend what the room was for. The heavy door has already become part of the room, separating him from his twisted brother.  
"God damn! This university has its own Sick Bay for mental patients!" he exclaimed, beating on the door once. He was glad he didn't proceed, or he would be accompanied by numb pain for the rest of the day.  
"You know, this university also offers Psychology degrees, so this saves students the trip to an asylum. It's so convenient to have fellow students to experiment on," Vergil told him through the tiny window with bars situated at eye-level.  
"Where are Mum and Dad? I'm telling them I won't study here even if you do!" Dante shouted.  
"Oh, I won't take my chances here. Don't tell me you haven't been to the poorly-maintained bathrooms," he pointed out.

'I am getting back at you for this!'  
'I heard that.'  
'… I _meant_ for you to hear that!'

Identical pairs of blue eyes, one pair of vengeance and the other of dominance, stared at one another until the confined eyes turned away. He made sure this time that his twin is unable to overhear the things in his mind.

Vergil sensed that Dante is near despite having disappeared from his line of sight through the little window. He was probably sitting against the door, silently lamenting his predicament while shutting his tormenting twin from his thoughts.  
"Given up on the begging, Dante? Just as I thought, you are one weak brother," he taunted.  
It was a few seconds before Dante draws closer to the window to reply: "Oh, that's _so_ like you to use the word 'beg'. I think I'd like to use the word 'bargain' more."  
"Is that so? Then bargain _this_," Vergil shot back, shutting the tiny window.

'I can still mind-swear in your direction!'  
This time he shut Dante from his mind. Not long after that, his mobile phone rang. It was Dante; he brought his own phone after all, placing importance on communication while Vergil wondered why he even bothered bringing his own along.

Seeing how desperately his twin wants to talk to him, he picked up. "What is it?"  
"What are you gonna do when Mum and Dad get here?"  
"Do they even know you're here?"  
"I'd be damned if they don't, 'cause I just texted them!"  
"What?"  
The confined twin hung up.

Vergil's mind was open to mental connections again.  
'That's right, Verge. You didn't pay enough attention to remember that Mum _always_ brings her phone around.'

This petty situation holds no place for panic. When the two find this corridor, it would be corny if he were to take Dante out and put himself in. Sparda and Eva saw through that ten years ago. Moreover, if he pulled that trick today, it would make him look stupid.  
If he escapes, he would have nowhere reasonable to run to. He will have to confront them, too, once they get home.  
'Then it is clear: there is no running away for Vergil, son of Sparda. I will face this like a man.'

And so he stood there, leaning against the heavy door like it's nobody's business while waiting for minor impending doom to come. Meanwhile, Dante was disappointed that he has been disconnected to his brother's thoughts once more. He tried to find other things to amuse him until the time comes when he shall be freed.

_"I will follow you…"_  
Dante searched for the source of that voice.  
_"Follow you wherever you may go…"_  
It was starting to creep him out.

His breathing intensified, and he shrunk against the door, looking all around the room.  
Suddenly, on the floor of a corner to his right, a disturbing yellow portal opened. A bony, sharp-eyed man with long arms and a big nose ascended some steps that must have appeared at that end of the portal.  
"Be'lal! I've found you at last!" he declared in his strange accent. "I know where you're hiding the Dragon…" the man began to laugh.

"Who's hiding?"  
The ghostly apparition of a man wearing green-and-white robes holding a fan descended from the ceiling. He landed on the floor gingerly.  
The bony man stared from Dante to this ghost.  
"There are many Dragons where I came from. Which of us do you seek; the Dragon of Chang Shan? Or perhaps you're after Blue Dragon?"  
"Which Dragon are you, mustache?"  
"The Sleeping Dragon."

The translucent man pointed his fan toward the creepy man. The fan _actually_ fired a laser beam at him, knocking him backwards through the portal.  
The yellow portal closed, leaving no residue of otherworldliness on the firm mattress.  
Dante turned to the man calling himself the Sleeping Dragon, who smiled before disappearing in a flourish of his fan.

"Whoa, that was weird."  
He took care not to fall over when the door suddenly opened. Vergil looked at him with genuine concern before scanning the room with his eyes. "What the hell happened?"  
"Yeah. Tell us."  
Sparda and Eva just arrived.

Vergil helped his brother up. A glance of their eyes is all they needed to decide who tells the story first.

* * *

I can't resist adding Padan Fain and Zhuge Liang('s ghost) into this. I had fun writing this whole chapter, though.  
Oh, by the way, I don't own the 'I will follow you' song. It belongs to the local phone company Digi.


End file.
